Oh no! Dilemmas! After publishing my Spanking Short Stories Inspired by A.I. (Vol.1 F/M), I was excited to finally start in on Vol.2 featuring M/F short stories inspired by A.I. I copied the MSWord file for Vol.1, kept all the structure and formatting, deleted everything, changed the cover and title, and started writing! You like my watermelon panties?
Nice, bookends. Blue for boys, pink for girls.
I'll tell you my problem in a moment, but let me first digress and give my thanks to Lion over at his blog for buying my Vol.1 book and writing a great review: A New Fun Spanking Book. Lion says,
Julie isn’t a typical porn author. Her stories have surprising and sexy twists that manage to surprise me every time. Julie knows how to push all the right buttons.
Thank you, Lion!
Paying it forward, I just noticed that Tina over at Die starke Frau / The strong woman, has put out a new book Embracing Her Lead: A Guide to Thriving in Female-Led Relationships. I'm looking forward to reading it!
Okay, but here's the problem with Vol.2. I started in on a short story involving a 30-year-old woman who is forced by economic circumstances to move back in with her small-town Mom and Dad. Short stories should be short, of course. But when I got to my short story page target (around 20 pages), she did not get even her first spanking! But it's a GREAT setup, so now I'm thinking of putting Vol.2 on hold and writing a novella based on this premise. I mean, it's that good! The girl is totally me, and the Dad is totally my Dad, and I was getting sooooo turned on writing it!
Of course, I'm also excited by the dozen other short story ideas in my head, many of them I worked out with ChatGPT. So, I'm very conflicted. An embarrassment of riches!
Here's my lead up. It's a total first draft and I'd definitely clean it up and maybe take more time to flesh things out if it's going to be a novella (I was trying to keep it concise for a short story).
Let me know what you think!
----
Lucy Reynolds is a spunky 30-year-old woman who finds herself in an unforeseen circumstance. After losing her job and relationship, and facing a mountain of debt, she is forced to move back home to live with her parents until she can get back on her feet. She had moved out to make it in the big city before even graduating high school, chaffing at her dad's strict rules and even stricter punishments. So, she's pretty embarrassed that it has come to this.
On her first day back, as she's unpacking her suitcase into her childhood room, her dad steps in to have a private word with her.
Mr. Reynolds is a tall man with graying hair and a stern demeanour.
"Lucy, you're very welcome to stay as long as you need to, we only ask you contribute to the household work as best you can."
"Of course, Daddy."
"And remember young lady, when you're under my roof, you're under my rules."
Lucy rolls her eyes and says, "Dad, I'm 30-years-old. I'm not a kid anymore. You don't need to tuck me in and read me bedtime stories."
"Age is just a number, Lucy. You mind what I said."
"Fine," she says in an exasperated tone.
Mr. Reynolds looks back sharply at her, as if to tell her to watch her tone with him, but just nods and steps out of her room.
Lucy closes her bedroom door gently and throws herself on her bed. She didn't know what to expect coming home, but she should have expected this. Her dad was never one to be trifled with, and certainly not by "some snip of a girl", his last words to her when she refused his discipline and moved out, as was her right. Now here she is, she thinks, tail tucked firmly between legs. What did she expect?
But surely, at her age, he wouldn't still spank her, would he? The thought both horrifies her and does something else, something more confusing, for her. After being on her own for so long, cycling through subpar boyfriends (nothing like her daddy), she mentally began to associate boundaries and discipline, even spanking, with being loved and cared for, something she always enjoyed from her mom and dad, despite their strictness.
She had debated with herself for weeks moving back home. While she really didn't have much choice in the matter, she probably could have figured something out. But the truth was, she found herself craving her childhood boundaries. She even guiltily fantasized about her childhood spankings. And not just childhood. Right into her teens. And always, always, on her bare bum. She blushes as she has the thought. It's ridiculous. She's 30-years-old. He wouldn't. He couldn't. But the way he said, "my house, my rules". Could he? Would he? Of course, he wouldn't. She shook her head and put it out of her mind, getting on with the unpacking.
Sam Reynolds has mixed feelings about their daughter moving back in with them, however temporarily. He didn't approve of her decisions, her lifestyle, or of the company she kept. And look what happened. He had tried to raise her with discipline, but that child was always trouble. Too spunky for her own good, he thinks, chuckling to himself. It was actually her best quality, her spunkiness, but it got her into a lot of trouble growing up and earned her an awful lot of spankings and many hours with her nose in the corner, right up until she left home.
She had figured out the age of majority in their state was seventeen if she is no longer at home attending school. Her spunkiness caused her to refuse his discipline. He said she was right about the age of majority, if she moves out. But so long as she was living under his roof, it was under his rules and his consequences. She said in that case she was moving out. She'd move to the big city and get a job.
Sam was no hypocrite. "His roof, his rules" meant just that. If she was out from under his roof, she could do as she pleased.
Edith Reynolds, his wife, didn't see it the same way. She begged her husband to relent, terribly worried about her in the big city and what might become of her. Sam had no such worries. Sure, he was concerned, but they had raised a tough and resilient gal, and knew she would figure it out for herself. It might even be just what she needed.
Edith, in Lucy's presence, had pleaded with Sam to give up on his rules so she could stay. That's when he had said, "no slip of a girl sets the rules around here," and that was that.
They did go so far as to offer her a little financial support to get her started, but Lucy, spunky Lucy, got a job, finished high school by correspondence, got a better job, put herself through college, and got an even better job. Even so, she somehow managed to squander it all, not setting up a nest egg, and generating huge credit card debts with the help of her useless boyfriend. When the recession hit, and she lost her job, and her boyfriend abandoned her to her credit card bills, she was in dire straits.
Her parents didn't have the means, or the desire quite frankly, to support her financially, so rather than declare bankruptcy and couch-surf at her age, she asked to move back in. Her parents did help her to re-finance her credit card debts and were carrying the payments on the debt for the time being, which she is very grateful for.
Despite his daughter's calendar years, Sam still considers her an immature little girl based on her actions. Fine, she could come back to the nest, but "his roof, his rules" still applies, and in spades. Even as a supposed "adult", if she acts like a child, he'll lay down the law as for a child, and punish her like a child. If she doesn't like it, she knows where the door is. Even Edith had reluctantly agreed, eager to get her baby girl back home, if only for a while.
After a pleasant supper, Sam asks the women to join him in his study after they finish the clearing up. As they clear and wash, Lucy asks her mom what's up.
"His roof, his rules," her mom says by way of explanation.
When done, mother and daughter make their way into Sam Reynolds' sanctum sanctorum: his study.
Sam Reynolds is an accomplished and published amateur historian, as well as a somewhat famous author of historical fiction. In his stories, the heroes are men of virtue who rescue damsels in distress, though sometimes a particularly spoiled young damsel may just require a firm hand.
Lucy is quite possibly her dad's biggest fan, though she never lets on. She's too embarrassed to have him know she's dogmarked all the passages where the girl is spanked and later made love to, and that she frequently masturbates to those scenes. She knows it's weird to masturbate to her dad's fiction, but it is what it is.
Sam is behind his desk, writing, as the women enter. They each take a seat across the desk from him and wait for him to finish up his paragraph.
Lucy is intimidated by this room. Some of her more serious spankings, when the belt was taken off, happened in here.
He turns to them and says, "I asked you both here to discuss the rules for Lucy. Understood?"
"Oh, Sam," says Edith, sounding disappointed in him.
"Don't you think I'm too old for rules, Daddy?"
"What do I always say?"
"Age is just a number," Lucy rhymes off by rote.
"And...?"
"Your roof, your rules."
"Exactly."
"Yes, Sir," Lucy says, intimidated by her stern dad.
"First of all, you'll help your mother around the house. The cooking, the cleaning, and suchlike. High time you learned how, young lady."
"Yes, Daddy," Lucy says, expecting it. She knows this discussion is her price of re-admittance, and she swallows her pride.
"Secondly, we won't be having you go idle. You'll get a part-time job if you want any spending money, and you'll enrol in some continuing education."
Lucy knows her dad is a stickler for life-long learning.
"Yes, Sir."
"Curfew. Curfew is 10pm weekdays, lights out by 11pm; 11pm weekends, lights out by midnight."
"Dad... no!"
"You need to establish a healthy sleep rhythm, young lady. No exceptions."
Lucy's cheeks burned with humiliation. A curfew? At her age? She's 30-years-old!
"Daddy... please."
"No exceptions."
"Dear," says Edith, "don't you think..."
"No exceptions. I require you to acknowledge that, young lady."
"Yes, SIR," Lucy says, sounding surly for the first time.
"Next, regarding your attire. I expect you to dress modestly and appropriately, especially around town. Nothing too short or too low cut or tight. None of those leggings or tight pants."
"Dad!"
"Which brings us to men. You're not to be alone with a man under my roof. And I remind you that curfew is curfew, date or no date. A little kissing is fine, but nothing more. Any gentleman wishing to date you will ask my permission first."
"That's pretty old fashioned, Daddy," says Lucy with a smile. Indeed, after what she's just been through, she has zero interest in men. Had her dad vetted her boyfriends, things might have gone better in fact, her last boyfriend spending her money freely, racking up debt, and then blowing off.
"What can I say, I'm an old-fashioned guy," Sam says with a grin, indicating his antique-filled wood-panelled study.
"Finally, substances. No smoking, no drinking, certainly no recreational drugs of any type."
"Dad! You drink," Lucy says, in an accusatory tone, indicating his well-stocked bar of top-shelf liquor he keeps in this very room, under lock and key.
"In moderation, unlike you. You may have a drink when I offer it to you."
"Fine," Lucy says, knowing it's for her own good. She had been abusing drugs and alcohol and knows it's not good for her.
"Any questions?"
"No, Sir," Lucy says, still blushing and even a bit angry at being treated like a child. But she knew what she was signing up for when she asked to come home. She just had not expected the rules to be so rigid and voluminous, especially with regards to curfew and drinking and dress. She also smokes weed to calm herself. Though she was sure she could sneak in a toke behind Dad's back. She had become quite adept at it as a teen, after all.
No consequences were mentioned for breaking the rules, and Lucy had dared not ask. Was spanking the understood consequence, even at her age?
The next few weeks pass harmoniously. Lucy really enjoys her time with her mom, learning amazing cooking and household skills she had never developed as a kid. She even prepares a solid dinner all by herself, receiving much praise and encouragement from her mom and dad.
She also, against all odds, loves her time with her dad. What a little shit she must have been as a child, she thinks to herself, not appreciating her dad. By contrast to her loser boyfriends, dad is amazing. She can listen to him for hours going on about history, bringing it to life for her.
For their part, her parents are also mightily impressed by Lucy. Her quick wit, her raw intelligence, her broad interests. They always knew it, of course, but her mischievousness and boundary pushing as a teen made her hard to deal with back then. Despite Sam's initial reluctance, he's actually quite delighted to have his little girl back under his roof.
All the while, in the privacy of her childhood bedroom, more than ever Lucy reaches for her dad's juiciest fiction, pleasuring herself to her dad's spanked damsels and the rugged men who lay down the law for them.
These several weeks later, she can't help but wonder if dad was just bluffing with his big "my roof, my rules" act. Though in truth, she had broken none of his rules. Would he actually put her across his knee, as he did before, if she broke a rule? He had not threatened that explicitly in the laying down of the rules, so she is left wondering. Wondering what would happen if she broke a rule. Maybe just a small one...
Eventually, Lucy reconnects with some childhood friends. They organize a girl's night out. It's a Friday night and she knows her curfew is supposedly 11pm, but it had not been mentioned since, even when she had casually told her mom and dad her plans. She was also banned from drinking except when offered by her dad, but he fairly routinely offered her a sherry for their after-dinner history and world politics discussions. So again, she wasn't sure how serious he was about it all.
She goes out, dressed modestly and determined to stick to non-alcoholic beverages. However, a bit of that teenage boundary pushing is still with her. What if she's just a few minutes late for curfew? What would happen? Would it go unnoticed? Would she get a talking to? More than that? She wanted to find out, even though the butterflies in her tummy told her not to. Her main thought was, would Daddy spank her?
The watering hole was only a short walk away. Ten minutes at best. She walked there after supper and behaved herself at girls' night out, even though her friends got pretty inebriated. She had to repeatedly refuse their offers of alcohol. When 10:45 rolled around, the others seemed to be just getting started. She knew she should leave to make it home by curfew. But she needed to see. She wanted to see.
Well aware of the time, Lucy begins her walk home at 11:15pm, not wanting to push her luck further. She sheepishly enter her house, quietly as she can, just before 11:30pm, one half hour late for curfew.
"Lucy!" calls out her Dad from the study as soon as she shut the door.
"Oh, shit," she thinks to herself.
She walks to the open door of his study. He is behind his desk writing.
"You're almost thirty minutes late for curfew."
"I'm sorry, Daddy. I lost track of the time," Lucy says, eyes downcast.
"Were you drinking?"
"No, Daddy. "
"Go to bed. We'll discuss this in the morning. 10am sharp."
"Yes, Daddy."
"Oh my gosh," Lucy thinks as she hurries up to her bedroom, goes in, and shuts the door breathlessly. "What's he going to do to me tomorrow?" Lucy has a very restless night, her hand on her pussy for much of it.
Next morning Lucy rises, goes to the bathroom, showers carefully, and dresses. She carefully selects her panties and dons a thigh-length dress keeping her legs bare.
She goes downstairs for breakfast at 8:30am. Only her mom is there. Her dad is already at work, writing in his study.
"What were you thinking, Lucy?" Mom asks.
"I wasn't thinking. That's the problem," Lucy says gloomily.
In truth she had wanted to push boundaries. She wanted to know.
At 10am sharp she knocks on her dad's study door.
"Enter."
Lucy goes in then shuts the door behind her. She approaches his desk and stands there, eyes downcast, fingers fidgeting in front of herself. She waits for him to finish up what he was doing.
Her Dad turns to her.
"You were thirty minutes late for curfew, young lady."
"I know, Daddy. I'm sorry."
"Have you any explanation?"
"No Daddy. Just careless. I'm sorry."
He contemplates her for a moment.
"You didn't drink?"
"No, Daddy. Not a drop."
He contemplates her some more as she stands there squirming.
"I set you these rules for a reason, Lucy. It's not about a half hour here or there. You need to learn how to set rules for yourself and then follow them. Because you're not yet able, I'll set the rules for you, and you will learn how to follow them."
"Yes, Sir."
"I'm going to let it go this time, young lady. But next time you break a rule without any good reason, there will be consequences."
"Yes, Daddy," Lucy says, the butterflies in her tummy doing backflips.
"You're dismissed."
Lucy turns and walks toward the door. On the way, she gets her courage up. She turns back and asks, "Daddy?"
"Yes," he says absentmindedly.
"What kind of 'consequences'?"
He looks back up at her, meets her gaze, and with a steady and steely voice says "the over-my-knee kind of consequences."
Lucy feels a strong blush rising in her face, and a tingling in her pussy.
"Y... y... yes, Daddy," she says, quickly making her exit.
Sam Reynolds turns back to his work, the smallest smile on his lips unseen by his daughter.
----
Pretty good, eh?
Should I turn it into a novella? I have multiple follow up scenes in my mind
- Her first spanking.
- Her getting picked up by cops for possession of marijuana.
- The cops sitting awkwardly in the living room as Lucy gets her spanking in the study.
- The cops running into Lucy later at a coffee shop and gently teasing her.
- Lucy pushing boundaries during Dad's poker night.
Stuff like that.
